


Snapshots (no, this isn't your life)

by chicafrom3



Category: Black Donnellys
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, Extended Metaphor, F/M, Memories, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-11
Updated: 2007-03-11
Packaged: 2017-10-18 03:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chicafrom3/pseuds/chicafrom3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kim's perspective on the attack on Sean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots (no, this isn't your life)

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the lovely nikiness.

All of Kim's life has happened in snapshots.

Maybe it's because she's a photography student and a good one, or maybe it's the reason why she's studying photography at all. Either way, she remembers moments, instants, with startling clarity, while the surrounding context blurs into gray.

Nearly a week ago, she was walking out of a class with Tommy Donnelly, and that is a snapshot. She remembers every detail: what he was wearing, what she was wearing, the sharp angle of his cheekbones and the softness of his smile; the smell of fresh-cut grass and cigarettes, the way her textbooks dug into her forearms, the sound of cars passing, and every word they said.

She vividly remembers thinking _Tommy Donnelly is going to ask me out_ , and she remembers planning to say yes.

She doesn't remember why. She can't recapture the butterflies feeling Tommy used to inspire in her.

Nearly a week ago she met Sean Donnelly for the first time, and that is context. Important context, yes, context without which nothing that happens later makes sense. But context nonetheless, blurred and indiscriminate, like a photograph developed too quickly. The outlines are there: Sean on a street corner. Her car. Tommy leaving to talk to another of his brothers. A makeout session that left her breathless and giggly.

But the details are gone. She can't remember what Tommy was yelling about. Or what Sean said to her, the words that got him into her car and pressed against her; or how Sean tried to explain it when Tommy walked out and saw them.

She can't remember the exact curve of Sean's smile or the way his eyes lit up, and that bothers her deeply.

Four days ago, she went on a date with Sean Donnelly, and that is a snapshot. If she closes her eyes, she can still feel the reassuring weight of his arm around her shoulders and the texture of his denim jacket. She can still smell him, warm and solid, laundry detergent and generic soap. She can still hear the gentle rhythm of his voice.

Four days ago, Sean Donnelly was beaten nearly to death in front of her, and that, too, is a snapshot. She doesn't have to try to remember it. Every time she closes her eyes she relives it: the two guys in the car. Sean telling her, quiet but firm, to walk away; the worried crease in his forehead.

His screams of pain and fear and anger. The sickening crunch of boots and fists and clubs against flesh and bone. The feel of skin tearing under her fingers as she tried to pry them away from him. The way Tommy's anguished screams of _Seanie!_ echoed off of the buildings surrounding them.

Kim will never, ever forget the sight of Sean, motionless and broken and covered in blood.

Three days ago, she sat in a hospital waiting room with a cup of stale coffee, surrounded by people she'd barely met, praying for the life of a boy she hardly knew, and that is context. It all blurs together, sepia-toned and overexposed; the doctors, the nurses, the Donnellys, family friends, the beeping of the machines keeping Sean alive. She vaguely recalls thinking that Helen Donnelly hated her, and not being sure why: because she was with Sean when he got hurt? Because she wasn't a good local Irish girl like Jenny Reilly, and Sean wasn't going to marry her and settle down with kids and a house? Because Tommy had liked her first, but she'd gone out with the youngest of the brothers?

She harbors an impression of Jenny Reilly as a lifeline that everyone clung to. She knows that the oldest Donnelly brother, Jimmy, was arrested. She thinks she was scared of Tommy for the first time since they'd met.

But she can't remember why.

Three days ago, Tommy Donnelly asked her to forget, and that is a snapshot.

 _Do you know what would be good?_

 _What?_

 _What would be the best thing for Sean? For you_ not _to remember what those guys look like._

 _How would that be better?_

 _Do you think I love my brother?_

 _Yeah, of course you do._

 _It would really be better for him, okay?_

 _Okay._

She tried. Overexposed the memory, bleached it, stained it, did everything she could to ruin it, but still his face remained in sharp focus, coming at Sean with deadly malice.

And so she hides the memory away, buries it from herself, tries to forget that it is there. Sean is Tommy's family, and Tommy knew best. She doesn't know what's going on. She doesn't need to know. She just needs to know that Sean didn't deserve it, and that Tommy is taking care of it.

And that Sean will be all right.

God, she hopes Sean will be all right.


End file.
